For years, the Boko Haram and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) terror groups have told Muslims in Nigeria and the Lake Chad Basin that the world outside their camps is not merely corrupt, but that living in it constitutes unbelief. They reinforce this stance through the misinterpretation of scripture, selective history, and the authority of armed men. They use terms such as tawheed (monotheism), hijrah (migration), bay‘ah (allegiance), jihad, daulah (sovereign state), Darul Islam (abode of Islam), Darul Kufr (abode of unbelief), and takfir (excommunication).
To the ordinary ear, it may sound like religion, but beneath the vocabulary is a hard political claim: only their authority can certify Islam. Through this doctrine, they decide who is allowed to live, who must die, who is Muslim, who is no longer Muslim, which land is pure, which land is condemned, which ruler is apostate, and why a farmer, teacher, cleric, trader, voter, soldier, journalist, or civil servant can become a target.
The Takfir
At the centre of this war is takfir, the act of declaring a professed Muslim to be an unbeliever. Mainstream Islamic scholarship treats takfir as a grave matter. It requires knowledge, evidence, context, intention, and due process. A Muslim does not leave Islam because he lives under a flawed state, or because he carries an identity card, works in a hospital, teaches in a school, votes in an election, or refuses to migrate to a forest camp – all of which the terror groups view as signs of belief in Western values.
Boko Haram, or Jama’atu Ahlis-Sunna Lidda’Awati Wal-Jihad, shortened as JAS, loyal to Abubakar Shekau, decreed that if you did these things, you were suspect. The most frightening part of Shekau’s doctrine was that he demanded others declare the same people unbelievers, too. If he declared a Muslim in Maiduguri an unbeliever because he lived under the Nigerian state, then ISWAP also had to declare that person an unbeliever. If ISWAP refused, Shekau’s logic turned against the group; they too became unbelievers because they failed to excommunicate those he had excommunicated.
This doctrine explains why JAS could kill villagers, denounce scholars, attack mosques, murder defectors, bomb displaced people, and fight ISWAP while still claiming to defend Islam. In Shekau’s universe, the circle of Islam narrowed until only his faction stood inside it. Everyone else stood outside the gate.
Colonial rupture and the question of authority
Abdulbasit Kassim, assistant professor of religion and classics at the University of Rochester, who specialises in the histories and cultures of Muslim societies in West Africa, places this doctrine inside a longer history. He argues that the question did not begin with JAS but reaches back into debates in Muslim West Africa over land, power, law, colonial rule, and the status of Muslims living under non-Islamic authority.
“Before colonial rule, much of what is now northern Nigeria, southern Niger, northern Cameroon, and western Chad belonged to a wider region known as Central Bilad al-Sudan. Muslim polities such as the Sokoto Caliphate and the Kanem-Borno Empire governed social, economic, political, and legal life through Islamic norms,” he said.
Colonialism disrupted that order. By conquering territory, the British introduced a hierarchy of laws in which Islamic law survived, but with a narrowed jurisdiction. Sharia courts continued in civil matters, especially marriage, inheritance, and family disputes. Criminal punishments under the Islamic canon became restricted, weakened, or rendered practically dormant.
“After 1999, when Zamfara State under Ahmad Sani Yerima revived the criminal aspect of Sharia, old tensions returned,” the professor added. “Some scholars and activists welcomed it as a restoration. Others argued that full Sharia could not operate inside a constitutional democracy where any law inconsistent with the 1999 Constitution could be struck down.”
JAS, evidently, did not emerge in a vacuum. Kassim said, “Mohammed Yusuf rejected Nigeria’s Sharia implementation because, to him, it remained trapped inside a secular constitutional order.” For him, it was not enough for a northern governor to introduce Sharia penal codes. The state itself had to be Islamic. Its sovereignty had to come from Islamic political precepts, not a constitution inherited from colonial rule. This is where the movement’s argument becomes more dangerous. It is not only saying that Nigeria fails to implement Sharia properly, but that the entire political foundation of Nigeria is illegitimate.
To Kassim, figures such as Ibrahim Zakzaky and Mohammed Yusuf shared one major point, even though their methods and movements differed. “They rejected the possibility of fully reconciling the Islamic juridical canon with Nigeria’s inherited secular constitutional order.”
This was the opening JAS exploited.
Nigeria as Darul Kufr
After JAS’s leaders convinced followers that the Nigerian state was illegitimate, the movement moved to the next step: migration. If Nigeria is Darul Kufr, the abode of unbelief, then Muslims had a duty to leave it, they said. If JAS’s territory was Darul Islam, the abode of Islam, then migration into its territory became a religious obligation. The group took an old legal category and weaponised it to control territory, Kassim argued.
This was not abstract in Borno, Yobe, Adamawa, Niger, Chad, and Cameroon. It meant families were pressured, threatened, abducted, or killed. Villages were told to submit. People who remained under government control became suspects; those who cooperated with the military became enemies; those who joined the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) and their families became legitimate targets in the eyes of the insurgents; and traditional rulers, clerics, teachers, and government workers became exposed.
Shekau then stretched the doctrine further.
According to Kassim, “Shekau held that Muslims living under the Nigerian state were no longer Muslim if they refused to migrate into JAS-held territory. ISWAP contested this. It did not accept Shekau’s blanket takfir against all Muslims living in government territory. ISWAP argued that such Muslims became unbelievers only if they gave material support to the Nigerian state or its security forces in the war against the insurgents.”
This difference shaped the split between the factions. ISWAP still accepted the larger jihadist fiction that the Nigerian state was illegitimate and that true authority flowed from the Islamic State. It still treated soldiers, political rulers, security officials, and those directly supporting the state’s war effort as apostates. It still imposed taxes, punishments, surveillance, recruitment, and control over civilians. It still placed armed authority above the lived Islam of communities that had practised the faith for generations.
The difference between Shekau’s terror and ISWAP’s brutal governance is the difference between reckless excommunication and structured coercion. One faction burned the village and shouted scripture. The other taxed the village, citing the doctrine. Both denied ordinary citizens the right to live safely and peacefully.
The internal civil war
Kassim captured this danger years ago in his 2018 study, JAS’s Internal Civil War: Stealth Takfir and Jihad as Recipes for Schism. He wrote that the internal war between JAS factions could only be understood through “a close reading of the constant stream of primary sources produced by the two factions”.
Kassim wrote a sentence that still sits heavily over this conflict: “Those who kill know why they kill, but the majority of those about to be killed will hardly understand why they are being targeted.”
That is the tragedy of takfir in the Lake Chad war.
A farmer on his way to the field may not know the difference between JAS and ISWAP doctrine. A displaced woman in a camp may not know what Shekau wrote about Darul Kufr. A trader at a market may not have heard of Abu Malik al-Tamimi, Anas al-Nashwan, or the arguments ISWAP sent to Islamic State scholars. A village imam may know the Qur’an, but not the way and manner in which insurgents interpret it. Yet their lives can be judged based on those interpretations.
Shekau saw ISWAP’s caution as a compromise and that is where the blood began to flow inward. Kassim explains that Shekau’s rigidity helped push internal revolt. Ansaru had earlier objected to JAS’s killing of Muslims and the violation of what its leaders considered the ethics of jihad. Later, Abu Musab al-Barnawi and Mamman Nur moved against Shekau from within the Islamic State framework. They accused him of extremism, arbitrary killing, and corruption of the cause.
In the interview for this article, Kassim explained that Shekau was far more reckless on takfir than Muhammad Yusuf. Yusuf laid the ideological foundation for rebellion against the Nigerian state, but he was more cautious about excommunicating Muslims. Shekau removed many of those restraints.
Civilian life as suspicion
Kassim’s 2018 chapter recorded that Shekau viewed people living beyond JAS’s controlled territory as infidels and therefore legitimate targets within Darul Harb (abode of war). He also noted that Shekau’s position was harsher towards those who fled from JAS territory to areas controlled by the Nigerian state. In that logic, their camps, mosques, markets, and places of refuge could be attacked until they repented and returned.
ISWAP challenged part of this logic. Abu Musab al-Barnawi argued that Muslims who had always lived outside JAS territory could not be declared unbelievers merely for that reason. In his view, they crossed the line when they gave active or passive support to the Nigerian Army, the Civilian JTF, or other forces fighting the insurgents.
Abu Musab died in Kaduna, northwestern Nigeria, an area that both JAS and ISWAP consider Darul Kufr. This may partly explain ISWAP’s relative fluidity on the issue, compared with JAS.
HumAngle spoke to a former JAS shura member who later joined ISWAP. He subsequently completed the Nigerian government’s deradicalisation programme and now lives freely in Maiduguri. He says the Shekau faction does not recognise the Islam of Nigerians, Saudis, or anyone outside its creed. “To them, whoever is not with them is an unbeliever. Saudi Arabia is no different from a non-Muslim society in their imagination. It is simply another land of unbelief.”
He said ISWAP classifies Muslims living in Nigeria, Cameroon, Chad, Niger, and other states into categories. Those who can migrate but refuse to do so are sinners, not necessarily unbelievers. Their offence is treated as a major sin. The weak, the elderly, women, children, and those without means may be excused. Those who remain outside insurgent territory while openly challenging secular rule and calling people to Islamic governance may even be rewarded. In his telling, Mohammed Yusuf’s preaching before 2009 fits this category.
But those who join the democratic system, legislate, govern, enforce state authority, or fight under the security forces enter a more dangerous category. Politicians and legislators become tawaghit (false gods). Security officials become direct enemies. Soldiers, police officers, Civilian JTF members, and others who bear arms against the insurgents are treated as apostates whose blood is lawful to be spilt.
Doctors and teachers sit lower in ISWAP’s hierarchy of offence. They are not treated the same way as soldiers or politicians, but they still operate inside a system the group condemns.
This is the cold bureaucracy of ISWAP’s worldview. It sorts society by perceived allegiance, measuring sin by proximity to the state. The former Shura member called JAS a Khawarij-type movement because of its sweeping excommunication of Muslims. He said Shekau and his followers misused verses on oppression, migration, and disbelief. They took verses that classical exegetes treated with care and turned them into proof that any Muslim living in Darul Kufr had committed major shirk.
The key verse in their argument comes from Surah An-Nisa, where angels question those who wronged themselves and failed to migrate when Allah’s earth was spacious. ISWAP reads this as a grave warning against remaining in a land where Islam cannot be practised fully. Still, it leaves room for categories such as weakness, inability, and sin below disbelief.
The former shura member says Shekau’s faction then links this to another Qur’anic discussion of zulm (oppression), or wrongdoing, in which classical explanations connect the greatest zulm to shirk (polytheism). From there, JAS concludes that staying in Darul Kufr is not merely a sin but a state of unbelief. That leap is where the danger sits.
The former Shura member said JAS uses this belief to seize wealth, abduct people, kill travellers, attack farmers, and justify arbitrary violence.
Why Hajj became secondary to war
ISWAP and the wider Islamic State network, the former shura member explains, take a more layered position on Hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca), which is generally regarded by Muslims as one of the five pillars of faith. “They still recognise Hajj as an obligation for Muslims who have the means. But they argue that tawheed has been corrupted worldwide and that restoring it through jihad takes priority. In practice, a wealthy fighter should not spend money on Hajj. He should donate it for weapons.”
Islam makes Hajj one of its five pillars. ISIS and ISWAP do not always deny that in theory, but they demote it in practice. They turn the battlefield into a higher obligation that suspends pilgrimage, family obligations, learning, work, charity, and ordinary religious life.
The anonymous source says senior Islamic State scholars issued rulings that no mujahid should spend his money on Hajj when he can spend it on arms.
They take a religion structured around testimony, prayer, fasting, zakat, and pilgrimage, then reorder it around obedience to commanders and permanent war. The recruit is told that the world is corrupt, his parents are ignorant, his old imam is compromised, his country is unbelieving, his passport is a symbol of loyalty to kufr, and his only safe identity is inside the jama‘ah (the jihadists’ community). By the time he is asked to kill, the moral world that could have restrained him has already been dismantled.
Saudi Arabia and the battle for religious legitimacy
For Muslims around the world, Saudi Arabia holds Mecca and Medina, the two holiest sanctuaries in Islam. Millions perform Hajj under Saudi administration, yet jihadist ideologues have long denounced the Saudi state as apostate, accusing its rulers of alliance with Western powers, partial application of Sharia, participation in the United Nations system, and military cooperation with the United States and others.
Kassim points to Abu Muhammad al-Maqdisi, the Jordanian jihadist ideologue, whose writings attacked the legitimacy of the Saudi state. The argument is familiar in jihadist circles: Saudi rulers claim Sharia, but rule partly through artificial laws; they belong to the international state system; they support Western military campaigns; they host or cooperate with foreign military power; they have betrayed Muslims.
This is why jihadists can condemn Saudi rulers while still struggling over the status of Hajj. Some declare the rulers apostate but still accept that Muslims may perform Hajj because the holy places remain sacred. Others move closer to rejecting Hajj under Saudi authority or treating it as inferior to jihad.
The anonymous source says ISWAP and Islamic State circles call the Saudi royal and scholarly establishment “Ahl Salul”, a contemptuous distortion linking them to hypocrisy. They do not call them “A’l Saud” or “A’l Sheikh” with respect. They dismiss many Saudi scholars as apostates or compromised because they did not confront the Saudi state.
Who gets to define religion? The scholars of centuries? The community? The custodians of the holy cities? The legal schools? The state? The armed commander in the bush? JAS and ISWAP argue that authority belongs to the armed vanguard. That is why they reject Nigeria’s Sharia states, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, UAE, Afghanistan, Mali, Niger, Chad, and other Muslim-majority or Muslim-populated states.
The third generation of war
Kassim warned in the interview that the conflict is entering a third generation, which JAS described in one of its propaganda videos as “Jiyalit-Tamkin” (reinforcement generation). Many fighters were born into war and therefore did not sit through the early debates or learn the tradition deeply. They inherited fear, slogans, weapons, commanders, and survival inside an insurgent economy.
The first generation, including Mohammed Yusuf, Shekau, Mamman Nur, and others, had some level of Islamic training. One may reject their interpretations, but they tried to ground their actions in texts. Shekau himself wrote books and cited Usman Dan Fodio, even if, as Kassim notes, the citations were often erroneous and shallow.
The current generation is different. For many of them, jihad is the only economy they know, and now functions as the road to food, wives, money, status, revenge, protection, and belonging.
The former shura member says this is visible among the Shekau loyalists who remain under Bakura’s orbit. He says they suffer from a dearth of scholars and describes figures around the faction as lacking deep knowledge, with some retained by kinship, money, fear, or coercion rather than conviction. This is one of the most important revelations.
“The war is no longer driven only by men who believe they are restoring an Islamic order. It is also driven by men trapped inside a violent economy that needs theology to keep feeding itself,” the former shura member said. War has become a livelihood.
Ending the conflict requires more than defeating JAS’s ideology. Many actors are bound to the war by power, profit, survival, and identity, making violence harder to end than extremist beliefs.
Why the war endures
The state did not create JAS’s theology, but it gave the movement that emerged in northeastern Nigeria some of its most powerful stories. The killing of Mohammed Yusuf in 2009, mass arrests, military abuses, corruption, abandoned communities, failed justice, and the humiliation of civilians all became material for insurgent propaganda.
Across the Sahel, the same pattern repeats. Jihadist groups exploit weak courts, abusive soldiers, predatory officials, unresolved local disputes, ethnic suspicion, rural abandonment, and poverty. This is why Nigeria cannot bomb its way out of the conflict.
The anonymous former shura member rejected claims linking recent schoolchildren kidnappings in Oyo State to either ISWAP or JAS. According to him, the perpetrators are unlikely to belong to either group. Instead, they may be newly emerging terrorist cells, former Lake Chad insurgents, or criminal networks that have adopted the rhetoric, tactics, and imagery associated with the Lake Chad insurgency.
Nigeria now faces more than one threat. There are jihadist factions with doctrine, command structure, and transnational links. There are armed gangs with local motives. Some kidnappers borrow religious language. Some opportunists understand that the word Sharia can create fear, attract attention, or confuse investigators.
Bad analysis merges them all while good analysis separates doctrine, network, command, territory, language, and motive.
The need for precision
Experts say mainstream Islamic scholars must speak with more precision and courage. They must confront takfir clearly and explain why residence under a secular state does not erase religion. They must explain why bad governance does not give an insurgent the right to cancel the faith of millions, why Hajj cannot be demoted by men who need money for weapons, and why Sharia without mercy, restraint, due process, and qualified authority becomes rule by fear.
It is not enough to say JAS has nothing to do with Islam. That may comfort outsiders, but it does not answer the recruit who has heard verses, hadith, juristic language, and historical references.
Kassim admits he does not see a clear solution. The idea of restoring an Islamic state will remain as long as many Muslims see the Nigerian system as chaotic, unjust, corrupt, and unable to serve its people. The dysfunction of democracy strengthens the insurgents’ claim.
The insurgents do not need Nigeria to fail. They only need it to be failed enough for a young man to feel humiliated and for a farmer to distrust soldiers. It was enough for a displaced family to feel forgotten. Every abuse becomes a sermon for them.
Submission as the ultimate test
The fight against JAS and ISWAP is often framed as a fight to win back territory in Sambisa, Alagarno, Mandara, Marte, Abadam, Lake Chad, or the borderlands. But it is also about authority: Who defines religion? Who protects life? Who dispenses justice and punishes wrongdoing? Who can call another person an unbeliever?
This explains why the majority of JAS’s victims have been Muslims. The war has devastated Muslim villages, clerics, farmers, traders, women, children, and displaced families.
JAS and ISWAP are defending their monopoly over religion. And inside that monopoly, Daniel the priest, Ibrahim the imam, the displaced mother, the market trader, the farmer, the journalist, and the child on the road can all meet the same fate.